Chapter 39

THIRTY-NINE

S urveying the damage, Asher mentally cataloged the destruction. The eastern wing had taken the brunt of the attack - scorched walls and shattered windows told the story of their defensive stand. Ancient stone, reinforced by generations of protective magic, had held against the worst of the assault, though several modernized sections hadn’t fared as well. The new laboratory annex’s sleek glass panels lay in glittering shards across the courtyard.

“Primary structural integrity is holding,” she noted, running her hand along a centuries-old support column where dragon fire had melted newer materials but barely scratched the enchanted stone. “Though we’ll need to completely redesign the defensive grid. Their weapons shouldn’t have penetrated the outer wards so easily.”

Lori nodded grimly, picking through the remains of a security panel. “They’ve adapted their technology. See these burn patterns? They weren’t just trying to break through - they were collecting data on our defensive responses.”

The great hall itself presented a study in contrast. One end remained perfectly preserved, ancient tapestries and modern displays untouched, elegant place settings still awaiting guests. The other end looked like a war zone - tables overturned, centerpieces scattered, and her father’s smoldering equation-covered tablecloths adding a chaotic academic touch to the destruction.

“Well,” Nellie surveyed the scene, somehow still managing to look elegant despite having just participated in an aerial battle, “I suppose the molecular gastronomy menu is out of the question.”

Evadne joined her, carefully stepping over a fallen DNA helix sculpture. “The kitchen’s still functional. Though perhaps something less... flammable would be wise.”

“Pizza,” Asher suggested, not for the first time that evening. “It’s traditional post-battle cuisine. Very cultural.” She caught Talon trying to hide his smile at her attempt at diplomatic phrasing.

To her surprise, both mothers exchanged considering looks. Around them, clan members and scientists worked together to right furniture and salvage what they could. The initial adrenaline of battle was wearing off, replaced by a kind of giddy relief and camaraderie. Even Elder Magnus had rolled up his ceremonial sleeves to help clear debris.

“You know,” Nellie said thoughtfully, watching a young dragon researcher explain molecular structure to an elder while they repositioned a toppled bookcase together, “perhaps this is exactly what the evening needed.”

“Nothing brings people together like shared crisis management,” Evadne agreed. She pulled out her phone. “I know a place that delivers. They’re discrete about unusual ordering locations.”

“And quantities,” Nellie added with a knowing look at the growing number of hungry clan members.

Within an hour, the great hall had been transformed once again. The damaged section was cordoned off, but the preserved end comfortably held their extended family. Formal place settings had been abandoned in favor of paper plates and napkins - which her father immediately appropriated for a new set of equations...

“Dad, that’s our last clean napkin,” Everett protested as their father reached for yet another makeshift writing surface. “Use the pizza boxes like a normal person.”

“But the grease interferes with the coefficient calculations,” their father muttered, already deep into mapping the plasma wave’s energy distribution patterns. “Though perhaps if we account for the thermal conductivity...”

Asher watched with fond amusement as her mother silently slid a stack of actual notepads onto the table. Trust her to come prepared for scientific emergencies. Around them, the great hall buzzed with animated conversation as dragons and scientists dissected the battle from their various perspectives.

Near the ancient weapons display (now sporting several new scorch marks), Elder Magnus engaged in heated debate with one of her research assistants about the theoretical applications of electromagnetic fields in traditional dragon combat. The elder’s formal robes were still covered in equations from her father’s earlier enthusiasm, but he seemed more interested in the formulas than offended by their placement.

Lori and Levi had claimed a relatively private corner, heads bent close together over building schematics and security protocols. Their professional discussion might have been more convincing if Lori’s tablet hadn’t been turned off for the past ten minutes.

A comfortable warmth pressed against her back as Talon returned from conferring with his guards. “The perimeter’s secure,” he murmured in her ear. “Though we found something interesting in the debris field. Your theory about their cloaking technology was right.”

She turned in his arms, scientific curiosity sparking. “The electromagnetic disruption worked? Because I’ve been thinking about the frequency modulation?—”

His kiss effectively derailed her theoretical physics tangent. “Perhaps we could save the technical analysis for tomorrow?” he suggested, lips curved in a smile against hers.

“Distracting me with kisses is cheating,” she protested without conviction.

“Strategic adaptation,” he corrected, drawing her toward a quiet alcove. “Besides, I believe you mentioned something about theoretical applications requiring thorough testing?”

“If you two can pause the ‘strategic adaptation’ for a moment,” Mallory called out, her eyes twinkling, “Mother wants to discuss wedding venue options. Apparently, we need to factor in blast radius calculations now.”

“And cold iron shielding,” Harlynn added cheerfully. “Plus, space for both laboratory equipment and ancient artifacts. Very specific requirements.”